


sweet temptation

by amidnightlove



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Bottom Obi-Wan Kenobi, Chubby Obi-Wan Kenobi, Fluff and Angst, Force Bond (Star Wars), Intercrural Sex, M/M, Smut, Top Anakin Skywalker, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:27:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27859058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amidnightlove/pseuds/amidnightlove
Summary: Striving for balance in body and mind is key as a Jedi.The last thing Obi-Wan expected was for his balance to be disrupted by something as innocent as a cake, or by Anakin’s increasingly intense attention.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 19
Kudos: 160





	sweet temptation

**Author's Note:**

> while obi-wan will gain weight throughout the fic, it's never for kinky purposes.  
> this is just like any other of my soft and smutty stories, except that obi-wan is explicitly overweight.

It all started with the cake.

Though if Obi-Wan was honest with himself, the problem had begun earlier. Always been there.

But it was easier to blame the innocent portion of chocolate cake, the cream that dripped from its sides, the chocolate chips that gleamed under the low light of the café.

“You have to eat it all,” Anakin twirled his fork, staring at his own portion, “that’s the idea.”

Obi-Wan sighed, shifting on the seat. He wanted to say that just because they were stuck in the barren planet of Melacon for another night, it didn’t mean they could forget they were at war and simply go out and eat as if everything was fine and they were just two friends sharing a meal.

Instead, Obi-Wan grabbed his fork. The café was small, and the private booth that Anakin had found was equally small and dark. So no one would see General Kenobi having dessert.

“This better be worth making me go out, instead of letting me meditate,” he said.

Anakin grinned, his lips covered in chocolate.

Obi-Wan took a generous forkful, the cake bigger than the utensil’s prongs, and he placed it on his mouth.

He stopped, his taste buds exploding. Sweetness, chocolate, so much chocolate and sugar. The combination of the different chocolates covered his mouth and tongue, and for a second, Obi-Wan swore the Force almost sang around him.

Anakin laughed. “Told you.”

“It’s… divine,” replied Obi-Wan, and took another bite. It almost made him want to weep, it was the most delicious cake he had ever tasted.

Under the table, Anakin knocked their knees together. Obi-Wan looked at him while he chewed. Even in the dimness of the room, Anakin’s eyes and smile were bright; as if seeing Obi-Wan happy made him happy.

Obi-Wan gave him a small smile, fork scraping the plate to collect some cream that had spilt.

“Thank you for bringing me,” he said quietly.

Anakin ate his portion as if he had never had food before, and he signaled to a droid to bring more as soon as he was finished. Obi-Wan found that he did want more, so he didn’t protest.

Anakin’s hand covered his on the table, his mechanical fingers squeezing.

“I’ve been trying to bring you here since we arrived.”

“True,” the touch warmed him, Obi-Wan treasuring the small gesture. He turned his palm to squeeze in return and then withdrew the hand.

When he finished his portion, he realized he was full. And he also realized that he was never going to eat this cake again, so he did want to eat more no matter how uncomfortable he felt later.

They didn’t discuss their jobs, or anything Jedi related. Instead, Obi-Wan found himself staring at how Anakin’s dark blond hair shone under the candlelight.

And unusually quiet Anakin stared at him as well, his foot touching his calf. He kept twirling the fork, almost nervously.

The droid presented a plate with a generous portion of _Dream in Chocolate_ in front of them and then they were eating again.

“I’ll regret this later,” Obi-Wan said, stabbing a small piece. One chocolate layer was as tall as his ring finger.

“I won’t,” Anakin mumbled, chewing loudly.

Of course he wouldn’t. Anakin ate a lot and lost the weight quickly, his metabolism as fast as his reflexes. He spent a lot of time honing his body.

Obi-Wan had to be mindful of what he ate and how much. His body was a result of carefully controlling himself and working out as soon as he overindulged.

He could never eat an eight-course meal –as he had seen Anakin do— and then not pay the consequences.

But the cake called to him, it made him happy. The chocolate, the creamy texture, how it melted on his tongue.

He could almost moan. It was better than some of his meditations.

“You have…” Anakin finished his portion and pointed at his face with the fork, “here.”

“What?” Obi-Wan lifted a hand to his beard.

“No,” Anakin made a noise and leaned over the table, until his palm was cradling Obi-Wan’s jaw. “Here.”

His thumb moved past Obi-Wan’s lips, rubbing at the corner of his mouth.

Obi-Wan’s heart sped up for a moment.

“Thank you,” he said when the hand vanished, and he wiped himself with a napkin.

Anakin sucked his thumb, making eye contact with him.

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, knowing Anakin was doing it on purpose.

The more he ate, the more he relaxed, his worries faded away until the only thing in his mind was the perfection he kept eating.

He thanked the Force for the moment; for the moment of peace of Anakin and the opportunity to enjoy a meal together. Knowing that he would never eat the cake again and making his peace with it, the memory of its taste and Anakin’s smile seared into his heart.

* * *

By the time he returned to the Temple almost two weeks later, Obi-Wan had thought of that cake almost every day.

It was strange how such a small thing that had brought him a moment of happiness could still linger in his mind. He told himself he would never eat it again, that he was supposed to be at the Temple resting so he could be useful once more and go back to the front.

Instead, Obi-Wan walked around Coruscant aimlessly. He had sprained his right wrist after practicing for hours and he kept rubbing the place, trying to heal it with the slightest help from the Force.

Walking by himself, only paying attention to his own thoughts was something he had done frequently, especially when Anakin was still his Padawan. The sound of the city and its people washed away his worries or at the very least, made them seem insignificant.

He stared at the colorful shops, at the people who walked past him. Lost in his mind, he almost didn’t notice the shop.

He retracted his steps and stared at the spinning cake in front him. It was the cake. The _Dream in Chocolate_ cake.

He was inside the shop before he could stop himself, barely noticing that it was named _Little Delights,_ his footsteps guiding him to the cake until it spun right in front of his eyes.

A short human woman smiled at him knowingly, her dark eyes full of complicity. “You look like you’ve tasted it once and known no peace since then.”

Obi-Wan blinked, realizing he was in his Jedi robes and gawking at food. “I thought they were exclusives of Melacon.”

“And that’s where my family comes from, we import it,” she motioned with her arm at the tiny stores packed with shelves and tables. All full of sweets. “We have it in other formats too. Here.”

She walked to him and pressed a small round bonbon in his palm.

Obi-Wan walked out the store half an hour later, hiding in the folds of his tunic a box containing a dozen bonbons all baked with the same ingredient as the cake. And with the promise of Myra, the owner of the place, that they had many more sweets he could try.

He felt both giddy and ashamed as he walked into his room and deposited the box on his bed. It was a discreet white thing, with the name of the company scrawled in gold.

He traced the letters and then lifted the lid. Twelve identical round bonbons awaited him, all covered in chocolate, but each had a different sprinkle. Some with pink, others chocolate swirls, one with a tiny sugary flower.

He was shoving one into his mouth before he could stop himself. When he bit down, the chocolate shell cracked, and his mouth filled with the sweet sugary flavor he never thought he would taste again.

He almost cried, but instead he grabbed two more, savoring each bite, each stain on his fingers.

Obi-Wan lay on his bed, kicking off his boots and grabbing another bonbon. It was as if all his worries faded the more he ate, only the chocolate in his mouth and mind.

When he looked at the box, there were only five left. He reasoned that he could not leave such an uneven number, so he arranged two bonbons on the top row and two below. He ate the other one, licking his fingers clean.

A flash of color from the corner of his eye made him turn, but it was just his body-length mirror.

The reflection showed him happy, smiling.

When was the last time he had seen himself like that? He was generally happy, but he knew he rarely smiled and genuinely meant it. His smiles were usually reserved for Anakin.

As if thinking of him had summoned him, Anakin showed up at the threshold of the door.

He threw himself on top of the bed, bounced and then dragged his body until he was laying on his stomach, the box between them.

“Hey,” he said and smiled at him. Anakin smiled more frequently than he did.

“Hello,” said Obi-Wan carefully, knowing it was obvious what he had been doing.

Anakin grabbed the box, examining it. He sniffed the bonbons but made no attempts to grab one.

“Smells nice,” he said, depositing it on the mattress.

“You can try one,” Obi-Wan said, wondering why Anakin wasn’t asking where the rest of them was, perhaps because the answer was obvious.

When Anakin didn’t move, Obi-Wan grabbed the box and offered it. Anakin had a strange relationship with food, all due to his childhood, and Obi-Wan threaded carefully.

“They’re made with the same ingredients as _Dream in Chocolate_ ,” he added, and because Anakin simply stared at him, he pinched one with his forefinger and thumb and moved it closer to Anakin’s mouth.

“Are they,” said Anakin and instead of grabbing it, moved his mouth until it grazed Obi-Wan’s thumb. His mechanical hand shot up to grab Obi-Wan’s wrist and keep him still, his mouth opening and closing around the bonbon, his tongue licking Obi-Wan’s fingers.

Obi-Wan went very still, blood rushing down between his legs.

“Anakin,” he said, not knowing what he really wanted to say.

Anakin kept eye contact, moaning softly when he bit. When his tongue licked his lips, he also licked Obi-Wan’s fingers again.

Obi-Wan wanted to pull away, wanted to push the hand away so he could clean the chocolate from Anakin’s lips with his tongue.

“Delicious,” said Anakin in a low voice, releasing him. His eyes were dark, and he kept licking his lips even though the bonbon was long gone.

“I agree,” replied Obi-Wan grabbing the box and standing up from the bed in a second. He ate another chocolate, just because he could not bear to see three. Two made more sense.

The cloying sweetness distracted him, and he ignored Anakin’s look.

“I can order more, if you like them,” he didn’t want to say that he wanted them too. That he wanted it every day, every day of repeating the joy it brought him.

“I want more,” Anakin sounded amused, but Obi-Wan didn’t dare to turn.

So he nodded, and grabbed his datapad, quickly finding Myra’s store and placing a larger order. Not just bonbons, but the cake too. Whatever had that filling, he wanted it.

He kept ignoring Anakin’s gaze, the way his former apprentice lounged on his bed as if it belonged to him, as if he didn’t want to leave it.

And most importantly, Obi-Wan ignored how for a long moment, he wished he had been the bonbon just to taste Anakin’s lips.

* * *

His undershirt was tighter around his middle.

Obi-Wan frowned, noticing that the waistband of his pants almost dug into his skin. It was possible that his clothes had shrunk during washing, but he knew it was him that had gotten bigger.

He looked away from his mirror and decided to eat a tiny chocolate bar before putting on his tunic. He smoothed down the fabric, his hand touching a slight swelling around his middle.

 _It’s just the clothes_ , he told himself, looking at the chrono on the wall.

He hurried out of his rooms, not before eating another chocolate bar. A small one.

It was early morning, and most of the Jedi apprentices were in class. Those who were old enough, who were Knights or Padawans, were at the front.

Obi-Wan reached the hangar just in time to see Anakin talk to Rex, a slight crease on his brow. In his mind, the mission had already begun, even if he was still at the Temple. He nodded at whatever Rex was saying, at the clones who walked past him and saluted.

When Obi-Wan stopped at the edge of the hangar, Anakin snapped his head up as if he had waited for him, as if he had heard him come close.

He walked towards him intently, and something about that gaze rooted Obi-Wan on the spot.

“You came to say goodbye,” Anakin said when he stopped in front of him.

“You’ll be gone for at least a month,” Obi-Wan said, raising his head to stare at him, “I thought it appropriate.”

Anakin walked closer, the tips of his boots touching his. He gave a slow gentle smile.

“I will miss you too,” he whispered, so only they could hear.

Obi-Wan swallowed, clasping his own hands in front of his middle. He knew the depth of his attachment to him, but saying it out loud felt dangerous.

“Anakin… I…”

Someone called for Anakin, but Anakin didn’t look, as if waiting for whatever Obi-Was was going to say. He seemed to be searching for something in Obi-Wan’s face.

His shoulders slumped when he got nothing. “I’ll see you later.”

“May the Force be with you,” Obi-Wan said, and felt it was the wrong thing to say. But the words lodged in his throat, so he could do nothing but utter the customary words.

Anakin nodded and turned, walking in the direction of his ship. He grabbed a bag he had left on the floor and checked his belt, toying with his lightsaber.

Obi-Wan opened and closed his mouth, wanting to fix his mistake. He also wanted to go back to his room and eat, let the food make him forget about his slip.

Anakin was more than a friend, and he deserved a better send-off.

When the clones started boarding, Anakin waited at the end of the ramp, fidgeting. He turned his head to look at him, and the indecision his body carried translated into his face.

Obi-Wan smiled at him.

Anakin walked towards him, his face going serious.

“Anakin?” Obi-Wan asked when Anakin stopped in front of him again, “did you forget something?”

“Yes,” Anakin said and wavered for a second, before dipping his head and planting a kiss on Obi-Wan’s cheek.

Then he turned and almost ran to the ship.

Obi-Wan knew he was going red. The kiss felt like a brand, a hot and throbbing thing. He felt it for hours, even after Anakin had long gone.

Even after he had to sit at his desk and go over old reports he needed to complete. His fingertips touched the place, and he felt the ghost of Anakin’s lips on his skin.

He found himself smiling, and for once it wasn’t due to food.

He had been left behind, but that didn’t mean he was free to do as he pleased. It just meant he didn’t have to hide from Anakin or anyone how much he was actually eating.

In the safety of his rooms, Obi-Wan only wore a tunic, only wore things that didn’t dig into his flesh. He kept in his desk the bonbons and when he ran out, he always ordered more.

He always got the same joy and comfort when he ate them, no matter how many he ate. The food kept him company in the long days and nights in which he was buried in paperwork.

When he was frustrated by how much he had to write, or when he spent entire days sitting in the Council’s Chambers, the food was there for him. Distracting and diluting his negative thoughts until he could only focus on the here and now, and the sweet sugary taste in his mouth.

After a while, Myra sent him weekly packages. _To my best costumer_ , one had said, and when Obi-Wan had opened it, he had found tiny sandwiches cut into different shapes.

He thanked her, and then thanked the fact that he could now eat not just sweets from her shop.

After a month, he was in control. Of thought he was.

On a rainy night, in which the raindrops pelted so hard on his window that Obi-Wan could not asleep, could not meditate either; he sat at the edge of his bed in his dark room and automatically his hand searched for the box of chocolates.

His hand found nothing, the box empty. When he lifted his head to stare at the impossibility of it –that box had over two dozen bonbons, and it had been brought that day— he stared instead at his reflection.

He gasped loudly, as loud as the thunder outside.

Obi-Wan stood up and walked until he was in front of the mirror. He touched his face, and his reflection imitated him.

His cheeks had filled out. Under his beard, his jaw was round, a hint of a double chin.

He moved his hand downwards, touching a round shoulder. No collarbone visible. When he touched his bicep, his fingers only touched soft squishy skin and, in the moonlight, he saw silvery stretchmarks.

Obi-Wan removed his tunic in a second, standing naked. He had a round belly now, no longer a tapered waist. He grabbed a handful of skin from his sides and found he had rolls now.

The stretchmarks appeared on his sides too, his stomach. His thighs were broader, round. Full of layers of fat.

He had lost control. The one thing he had ever had. He had overindulged, neglected his body and neglected the Jedi Code that said that he was not supposed to do any of those things.

Obi-Wan took a step back, but his new body didn’t fade. When he looked down, he saw all his changes. Even his chest seemed swollen.

He was, undeniably, bigger.

There was nothing wrong with him, he tried to reason with himself, except that being soft and chubby would show the rest of the Jedi and the galaxy how much he had failed; preferring to be in their rooms and eating instead of taking care of his body and mind.

A jolt of panic went through him. But he realized it wasn’t his.

“Anakin?” he said to the empty room. He looked through the window, at the endless rain.

The reply was muffled, and then he felt panic, resolve, fear. Neither of those emotions were supposed to be felt by the Jedi, at least not so intensely.

“Anakin, where are you?” he took a step towards the door, as if he could reach him.

_Obi-Wan, if I don’t make it_

Obi-Wan’s heart started pounding faster and he put on his tunic again, rushing to the door. Anakin’s mission had stretched over a month, a month of silence and only knowing he was alive because their bond told him so.

_Obi-Wan_

_I’m here_ , he replied, and knew that once more, Anakin had risked his life. _I’m here. Stay with me._

Instead of answering, Anakin sent a wave of affection and longing. Of regret.

The pain hit his mind, his brain. Obi-Wan couldn’t breathe, and he fell to his knees with a loud thud.

“Anakin!” he panted, a headache forming in his temples.

He couldn’t see clearly, his room too dark. Or maybe it was Anakin who was in a dark place. An oppressive weight settled on his chest and Obi-Wan went dizzy.

 _I love you_ , Anakin said softly.

And then the bond went silent, stretched thin. As if someone was pulling at it from both ends.

Obi-Wan curled on the floor, trying not to scream in pain and fear.

_Anakin._

_Anakin!_

No one replied, and he grabbed his head, unable to see. There was a haze in his mind, and he whimpered, calling for Anakin.

Anakin couldn’t be dead. The universe wouldn’t be able to simply move on if he was gone. Obi-Wan wouldn’t be the same without him.

He dragged himself to the edge of his bed, shards of pain slicing his mind. He couldn’t detect if the bond was still there or not.

He half-collapsed on the mattress and didn’t know how long he stayed there fighting past the pain and calling for someone who never answered.

At some point, when the storm had ended and the sun had risen, there was a call at his door.

Obi-Wan gathered strength from somewhere and lifted himself up. His mind was numb, as if something was not making him think clearly.

He didn’t recognize the girl in front of him, just noticed her Padawan braid. She told him he was urgently needed at the Halls of Healing.

He barely had the mind to change his clothes. Or try to. Nothing fit, no clothes that looked presentable. He ended up scurrying into Anakin’s room and grabbing one of his black tunics that had been washed too many times.

Obi-Wan wondered what he looked like, dressed like that and marching into the medbay. Fat, hair unkempt, worry in his face.

The Halls of Healing was a flurry of people, all walking fast. No one yelled, but there was a sense of urgency in the air.

Without being told to, he walked to where the private rooms were. As he approached, he heard familiar voices, the sound of droids working.

Ahsoka was saying something, not very amused. Rex’s voice echoed hers.

And then Obi-Wan heard it.

A voice he would never forget, someone who had spoken to him every day, to make him laugh or even banter with him. A deep masculine voice he treasured in his heart.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath and hid everything he felt behind a careful mask, even though the relief left him almost shaking.

Anakin lay on a thin medical bed, grinning and telling Ahsoka of how yes, the cave had collapsed on top of him but they had saved the power station, so it was fine.

He had a bruise on his temple and his mechanical hand lay limp on his lap.

When they saw each other, Obi-Wan forgot about the annoyance he had felt when he had realized that he could not think clearly, because Anakin was shielding from him and had done it since he had gotten injured. He forgot about his fear and panic, because Anakin was alive, and in front of him.

He vaguely noticed everyone had left them alone and he walked until he dropped on a chair next to him.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin smiled at him, as if nothing was wrong. He looked tired, but there was the same happiness in his eyes whenever he saw him.

Obi-Wan said nothing.

Anakin’s face fell and he looked away.

“If you’ve come to lecture me… I did what I had to do, and only my arm needs fixing,” he tapped his right arm, which didn’t even twitch.

“You’re shielding from me,” Obi-Wan said.

“I was,” Anakin agreed, frowning at him, “when the cave…”

Obi-Wan felt a prodding, a tugging in his brain, and then it was as if a door had been opened, and he felt Anakin again in his mind and heart. A radiant and powerful Force signature, as familiar as his own, wrapped itself around him, sending warmth and comfort.

“I’m sorry,” Anakin said, shifting on the bed to lay sideways.

_I didn’t know, I wanted to shield you from my pain. I was unconscious later._

“Did you think I was dead?” he asked out loud, staring at him.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, basking in the presence around him. He thanked the Force, not for the first time, that Anakin had lived.

The bed creaked under Anakin’s weight when he used his left arm to pat it. “Come here with me.”

“It’s not appropriate,” Obi-Wan said, disliking how cold his voice sounded. Anakin had risked his life for years, yet something felt different now. He blinked. “What you said, before shielding…”

Anakin patted more insistently, his face full of insecurity and openness.

So Obi-Wan got in, and the bed made a really loud sound under his weight. He could not fit properly without taking space from Anakin and he became aware that Anakin was seeing him after a month, and that he probably expected him to look much different.

Anakin moved closer to him, his left arm winding around his middle, nuzzling at his shoulder.

Obi-Wan went still, sucking in his stomach. There was no way that Anakin wouldn’t be able to tell how big he had gotten. Anakin’s arm now rested on top of Obi-Wan’s round belly.

Obi-Wan waited for him to say that he was different, or some joke. Anakin wasn’t cruel, but there was no way he could be blind to such difference in his body.

“I’m sorry,” Anakin mumbled, “I thought I was protecting you. I didn’t know,” he lifted his head to stare at him, “if I thought you had died, I would’ve destroyed this galaxy.”

“That’s not appropriate for a Jedi,” Obi-Wan said, but he relaxed into the hold, “you should mourn me and move on.”

But hadn’t he had thought his life wouldn’t be the same without Anakin? A thumb started rubbing at his side, and Obi-Wan released his stomach.

“I would never,” Anakin’s face went dark, “I would follow you. In life or in death, we’d be together.”

Obi-Wan stared. He wanted to say something about attachments, but he was sort of cuddling with him, so he kept his mouth shut.

The presence around him, both physical and in the Force, tightened.

The worry and fear faded, and he sank into Anakin’s embrace. They shared the same breath, their faces millimeters apart.

“You’re wearing my clothes,” Anakin murmured, his face darkening in a different way. He dug his fingers into one of Obi-Wan’s soft rolls.

“Yes, I’m sorry about that,” he didn’t explain why he had done that, but thought the answer was obvious.

“Don’t, they suit you,” Anakin looked at him up and down, “and I missed you too.”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan shifted on the bed, thanking the fact they had been left alone, “what you said…”

Anakin groaned softly, his hand coming up to touch his forehead. “My head…”

He knew it was a diversionary tactic, but Obi-Wan reacted to it nonetheless.

“Allow me,” he pushed Anakin’s hand away, and smoothed the bruise with his thumb. Anakin hissed, but leaned into his touch. “Did you really were reckless enough that a cave collapsed on top of you?”

“Not my fault,” Anakin mumbled, closing his eyes for a second. His mouth twisted into a sly smile. “But I know how you can make it better.”

“I’m guessing it doesn’t involve calling the healers,” Obi-Wan sighed, moving his thumb in circles. Anakin ran warm, always had, as if he carried the twin suns of Tatooine inside him.

“No, in fact, only you can do it.”

Obi-Wan’s hand trailed lower, touching the scar on his right brow.

“What?”

Anakin grinned. “You can kiss it better.”

Obi-Wan raised an unimpressed eyebrow, pulling his hand away.

“It’s scientifically proven to help,” Anakin added. “If you kiss me, I’ll feel better. I won’t go to our rooms until tomorrow, so you could help accelerate the process.”

“Really,” said Obi-Wan, and pressed his palm on Anakin’s forehead right on the bruise, sending healing energy. The place was unnatural hot, and he felt the injury below recede the more he touched. “If I kiss you, you won’t escape from here?”

“Promised,” Anakin nearly shook with excitement, tipping his head up.

Obi-Wan withdrew his hand and gave a soft kiss to Anakin’s temple, kissing the bruise. Anakin frowned.

“You didn’t say where you wanted the kiss,” Obi-Wan smiled, being pulled closer to Anakin’s side. He lay again on the bed and hid a yawn.

“Well, I do feel better,” Anakin imitated him, touching for a moment his forehead, and then placing his arm around Obi-Wan’s waist again. “Stay with me. Until I fall asleep.”

Obi-Wan looked around, knowing that someone would come to check on Anakin soon and would find him there, in Anakin’s arms.

“I will,” he whispered, resting his head on top of Anakin’s for a second, willing himself to only rest his eyes for a few minutes.

His lips tingled where they had touch Anakin’s skin, his nose filled with Anakin’s strong scent.

He fell asleep instantly and deeply, and without the help of food. Anakin’s presence and his warmth, and how the hand kept caressing his sides, sent him into a deep slumber he didn’t want to wake up.

* * *

When he returned to their rooms four hours later –after being awakened by a med droid and having to disentangle himself from Anakin’s arm without awakening him— Obi-Wan realized that he wasn’t going to be alone anymore.

Which meant he needed to hide all the food, hide all the evidence of how much he actually ate.

The previous day he had received a whole new _Dream in Chocolate_ cake that waited to be eaten, so he cut it into small portions while he planned.

Anakin would not return until the following morning, which gave him time.

He moved to the kitchen and wiped clean the table, finishing a box that only had two cupcakes. In a cupboard, he found four cookie packages and those he hid under his bed.

When lunch came, he finished what was left of the sandwiches, his stomach becoming increasingly tighter the more time passed.

He remained wearing Anakin’s tunic, which comforted him in a way food didn’t.

He made sure droids took away all the trash while he finished the cake. His body became slower and more sluggish and he started massaging his stomach, while he walked around checking no food was visible.

His desk was the worst place, and he prepared herbal tea to help his stomach. He had piled tiny plates and forks, empty cups. It disgusted him, but when he realized they had only piled up on the previous day, he only worried.

Obi-Wan sat on the couch of the sitting room and removed his pants, because it kept digging into his skin. He traced the marks they had left behind on his flesh and looked through the window, a hand on his belly.

The storm had vanished, and the sun shone.

A perfect day to complete whatever paperwork was left and finish the cake before Anakin arrived.

He wondered how he would truly hide the extent of his body changes when they frequently saw each other in different stages of undress. When often they sparred only in their undertunics –or shirtless, as Anakin preferred.

Obi-Wan winced and rubbed his stomach in circles. He had eaten too much, too soon. He should’ve saved some, like the cookies, and eat them when Anakin couldn’t see him.

He put his hand under the tunic and found the skin-to-skin massage was more comforting; his fingers splayed and touching the softness that lay under his skin.

The tea didn’t help, but he drank it anyway, keeping the massage. Hand moving in soothing circles, hand on his lower belly where the flesh was thicker.

 _Chubby_ , Obi-Wan thought the word, tasting it as he touched a stretchmark. That was what he was now.

Not necessarily a bad thing, except that others may disagree with his view. May judge his look, judge him unattractive or incapable just because he was thicker.

Things that shouldn’t matter to him, specially not to a Jedi, but he couldn’t stop thinking of them. It made him, for some reason, want to keep eating.

He finished the cake with some considerable difficulty, knowing he had eaten too much.

Obi-Wan half-collapsed on the couch, biting back a groan and covering his stomach with both hands.

He stared at the empty, dirty cake plate and the abandoned fork. His eyelids drooped and he took a big gulp of Anakin’s scent on the tunic.

He had found that naps after a large meal were natural, his body demanding him to slow down to digest everything.

He fell asleep on the couch, knowing he had at least eliminated all major evidence of his eating.

His body welcomed the chance to rest, to get ready again for more food.

 _I don’t even have a sweet tooth_ , thought Obi-Wan vaguely, already thinking that when he got up, he would eat something savory.

And it wasn’t his own body that woke him up, or the loss of the sun warming his face, but someone’s intense stare.

For a second, Obi-Wan tensed in his sleep. His mind battling to wake up and battle the threat.

When he blinked awake –aware that his nap had lasted longer than intended and that night had fallen— he recognized the figure looming on the threshold of the door.

“Anakin,” he whispered. “They let you go?”

He could not clearly see Anakin’s eyes, but he felt the weight of them on him. Sleepiness fogged his mind, but Obi-Wan slowly became aware that he was still in Anakin’s clothes, of the dirty dishes on the table.

He stood up, hands attempting to cover his middle and how big he was now.

“Anakin?”

“You asked me a question,” said Anakin flatly, taking a step closer to him, “while I was healing.”

Obi-Wan took a step back. Anakin seemed completely fine now, no bruise, his mechanical fingers opening and closing.

“I did.”

For every step forward Anakin took, Obi-Wan took a step back. There was a strange look on Anakin’s face that made his pulse quicken.

“Ask me again.”

Obi-Wan swallowed, noticing they were walking towards his own room, their footsteps leaving no echo on the floor.

“What you said before shielding… Was it true?”

He stumbled onto the entrance of his room and Anakin grabbed him by the waist before he could stabilize himself. Out of instinct, Obi-Wan placed his hands on Anakin’s body.

He noticed his soft stomach touched Anakin’s flat chest and he tried to move away.

“Yes,” Anakin said, licking his lips.

“Yes?” Anakin’s heart thumped fast under his palms and Obi-Wan could hear his own heartbeat in his ears.

“I was telling the truth,” Anakin said quietly, moving his head closer to his, “I love you.”

Obi-Wan didn’t have time to ask what he meant by that, in an instant, Anakin was kissing him.

Obi-Wan’s head hit the wall and he gasped, his mouth opening to meet Anakin’s tongue. His hands tightened into fists on Anakin’s shirt, his mind spinning with a sudden wave of love and lust.

As if after shielding so hard from him, Anakin was now letting everything out, all that he felt.

Obi-Wan’s knees shook and he found himself clinging to Anakin’s neck, returning the kiss with a weak moan.

One of Anakin’s hands went to his thigh, fingers trailing upwards.

“Anakin, wait,” Obi-Wan closed his eyes shut, ignoring how his heart wasn’t the only thing that he felt pounding, “you…”

 _You won’t like what you see_ , he wanted to say, but stared up into Anakin’s eyes, the hand stopping at the edge of his tunic.

“Obi-Wan, do you love me?” Anakin asked, pushing a lock of hair from Obi-Wan’s forehead, his face more relaxed.

And Obi-Wan wanted to say he didn’t, that he absolutely didn’t feel the same way, that he didn’t want to kiss him again and again and know how Anakin’s touch would feel on his skin.

“You’re the only person I’ve truly loved,” he said instead, blinking fast. He cupped Anakin’s jaw, his fingers getting wet with Anakin’s tears, “when you confessed that, and I thought you gone, I couldn’t bear myself. I couldn’t live if you had died without me saying _I love you too_.”

Anakin laughed and kissed him again, planting small wet kisses all over his face. His body still pressed him to the wall, and something hard poked Obi-Wan’s body.

“Mine,” murmured Anakin with each kiss. “You love me, only me.”

Obi-Wan’s legs opened without him knowing, and soon he was rubbing their cocks together, the friction of their clothes sending sparks across his body.

Anakin’s hot breath hit him on the face and Obi-Wan wondered how they had gotten into that situation so quickly; him having only the wall as support and his lips capturing Anakin’s incessantly as if he had waited for a long time to do just that.

And he knew, as he kept brushing away Anakin’s happy tears, that he had.

He clung to the back of Anakin’s neck as if his life depended on it, trying to rub their erections together. He almost whined when he realized the angle wasn’t the best, and he truly wanted Anakin, wanted him _inside_ of him.

Anakin smirked when he heard the sound, as if he knew what he had been thinking.

“Why now?” Obi-Wan asked, out of breath, the second Anakin moved away to undress himself. He quickly realized that Anakin expected him to be naked too, to see him.

His mouth watered when he saw Anakin’s hard cock, how even in the low light, there was no denying that Anakin was hard everywhere. His biceps and shoulders flexed every time he removed an item of clothing.

Obi-Wan almost crossed his arms over his middle but he knew that would be even more obvious.

He took a step back and into his room, Anakin following him once more, his cock bobbing with each step.

“Because I didn’t want another day without you, without knowing if you loved me or not, ” Anakin grabbed his hands, placing a kiss on his knuckles, “and you do, you do love me.”

“I do,” Obi-Wan replied in a whisper. “But Anakin,” he felt how the tunic stuck to his sweaty back, how his underwear was sticky, “my body…”

He felt oddly vulnerable, baring his heart and his body. But this was Anakin, so he continued.

“I know I look different,” the hand holding him squeezed tighter, “that you had feelings for me when I looked quite different.”

“I said I love you,” Anakin interrupted, frowning, “not _loved_ you. Yes, I’ve wanted you for years, but I see nothing wrong with you.”

Nothing wrong? Obi-Wan pressed his lips into a thin line, knowing he was being told those things just for comfort.

“I’ll prove it to you,” Anakin said, and tugged at Obi-Wan’s hands, made him spin and pushed him face first into the wall.

Obi-Wan opened his hands, clammy palms on the cold wall and looked over his shoulder. He didn’t know what to expect, and when he saw Anakin stroke himself while he stared at his naked legs he quickly looked back at the wall.

“Take your underwear off,” Anakin said, his voice deepening. “Keep the shirt.”

The last thing he had expected was that, he thought Anakin wanted to fully see him. But he obeyed, hastily going naked from the waist down.

Obi-Wan gave a sigh of relief when his erection was freed, and he rested his forehead on the sleeve of the tunic.

“Anakin, what are you doing?”

He tried opening his legs, wondering if this was how Anakin wanted him; not to see him naked, and simply take him from behind.

“No,” he sensed him come closer, hands sliding under the tunic and settling on his round hips, “press your legs together.”

The touch made Obi-Wan’s heart hammer, Anakin’s fingers rubbing the layer of fat he had there. Could Anakin sense the stretchmarks?

Obi-Wan took a deep breath and kept his legs together.

Anakin knelt, and pressed his lips on the outer side of Obi-Wan’s left thigh, sucking gently. He kept his hands firm and steady, kneading the soft skin.

He planted small kisses, occasionally licking and nibbling at Obi-Wan’s round thigh. He paid special attention to the inner side, where the flesh was more sensitive.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, ignoring his erection and how the gentle touch made him shiver.

“Soft,” murmured Anakin, moving to the other thigh. “So soft.”

Anakin nuzzled at his leg, his hands leaving his hips to just to settle on his backside.

“Soft here too.”

Obi-Wan wanted to laugh. He couldn’t deny that most of his weight was now on his stomach and rear.

“I…” he cupped his erection, sensing more kisses on his legs. “Anakin…”

Part of him wanted to throw away the tunic and beg to be taken, but another part of him treasured the soft caresses and words in his heart.

Anakin didn’t find him disgusting, the opposite. He should’ve known, that he would perceive his weight gain differently from him.

Anakin’s teeth sank into the place where thigh ended and backside began and Obi-Wan shuddered, his knee buckling.

Two gentle hands settled on either side of his backside and Obi-Wan arched his back.

“Ready?” Anakin asked, his hot breath hitting his hole.

Obi-Wan nodded, the spreading glow of arousal and affection moving to his lower body.

Anakin exhaled and then licked at his rim with his tongue, tracing it and almost teasing to come in.

Obi-Wan didn’t even hide his moans, trying and failing to cling to the wall for support.

The tongue entered him, exploring his insides almost curiously, Anakin’s hand kneading at his flesh again.

“Anakin,” his eyes prickled with tears when he not only felt the mouth slicking his entrance, but when Anakin once more sent a wave of love and lust his way. “Yes, I love you too.”

His cock was leaking, hard and needing a proper touch, but Obi-Wan kept in the position he was told, occasionally moving his hips.

Anakin seemed in no hurry, moving his lips and tongue, licking and sucking almost purposely loud. But Obi-Wan felt opened, ready, knowing that even if he wasn’t, Anakin would give him time to accustom to him.

So he sent back his own feelings, the warmth the action produced in his body, the warmth he felt for him, his _love_ ; and then he also sent the need to feel something harder inside of him.

Anakin laughed, and Obi-Wan turned his head in time to see him wipe his mouth, his cock as hard as his.

Anakin rose, and the hands went back to his hips, except this time something wet and hard poked his legs.

“Keep still,” Anakin said, kissing his neck.

The wet hard thing slid over the space between his thighs, Anakin thrusting slowly. Anakin’s cock, because that was what it was, left behind trails of sticky precum.

“This isn’t what I meant,” Obi-Wan said. It was an even weirder sensation that the tongue. He looked down and saw the tip of the cock appear and disappear between his round pale thighs.

In a way, it was even more intimate than Anakin tasting him; seeing Anakin’ cock glide over his thighs and occasionally brushing his own cock with each motion.

Obi-Wan tensed his thighs, his own moans echoing Anakin’s. It was not only intimate but strange too, letting Anakin have his body in his way, the body he thought would be rejected.

“What are we?” he asked, the tunic so sweaty it was now a second layer of skin. The question escaped from him, not a question befitting a Jedi, but he felt that after confessing and having sex with him, it was a fair question.

“What?” Anakin panted, keeping his cock trapped and thrusting shallowly.

Obi-Wan brushed the tip of the leaking cock that peeked between his legs and Anakin almost swore, pushing him closer to the wall.

“Us,” Obi-Wan said, feeling slightly silly, demanding an answer like that. It felt even sillier considering him as _lover_ , when they were so much more than that.

Anakin went still, resting his forehead on his round shoulder.

“You’re the love of my life,” he replied softly, “my best friend, my partner. But for years I’ve wanted to call you my husband too.”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan breathed, letting go of the wall and opening his legs. He turned around and took in Anakin’s face.

He cradled his jaw, pressing their foreheads together.

“I think,” he said slowly, “that I would very much like to be called your husband.”

A thrill went through him. This was the opposite of what he had learned, or even dreamed of. But being with Anakin, accepting his own feelings, felt right.

Anakin smiled, and even though they were both sweating and hard, the kiss he gave him was sweet and innocent, tipping Obi-Wan’s head up so he could get his tongue in.

“But before we do that…” Obi-Wan continued, whispering in his ear, “I want you inside of me, properly.”

Anakin nodded in agreement, and before he could second guess himself, Obi-Wan removed the tunic until he was naked.

He pushed him until Anakin crashed against the bed, landing on the edge with his legs opened.

The look Anakin gave at his body made a flush appear, his skin hot and feverish.

“You’re gorgeous,” Anakin said softly, “I like every part of you.”

“Every part?” Obi-Wan straddled him, making sure to sit on his thighs and not crush him. He found that he did feel gorgeous, that Anakin’s desire and approval made him even more comfortable in his skin.

The position highlighted his rolls, the extra padding he now had everywhere.

Anakin’s mechanical hand pinched carefully at his waist and he nodded. “Now you’re soft inside and out.”

His belly was carefully kneaded, fingers greedily massaging the round curve.

Obi-Wan shook his head fondly, grabbing Anakin’s shoulders to lift himself up and position the cock right under his hole.

His mouth opened in a silent moan, as he impaled himself on it. Anakin moaned loudly, taking hold of him for more stability.

It was too much, too soon, and it was not enough. Obi-Wan did not stop until he had Anakin’s cock hilt deep inside of him.

“Force, Obi-Wan, you’re tight,” Anakin hissed, keeping very still.

Obi-Wan whimpered, the fullness and stretch almost painful. He felt on fire, his hole burning.

He moved upwards carefully, trying to find a position that felt proper. Every time he moved, he saw his body jiggle, and saw Anakin’s enraptured expression.

He wanted to ask how or why he found it attractive, but Anakin beat him to it.

“I love seeing you bounce on my cock,” Anakin commented casually, “see you all round and healthy. You know what the biggest difference in you is?”

Obi-Wan whimpered, moving his hips in circles, his own cock staining Anakin’s chest.

“You look happy,” Anakin continued, squeezing at his soft belly, “happy and relaxed. I’ve never seen you like this.”

“I…” words failed him, and Obi-Wan settled on a slow rhythm, one that made the pleasure spark on his entire body.

“You deserve it, being soft and happy,” Anakin added, and he snapped his hips up, earning a short wail, “you could have any shape and size and I would still love you, want you. But I do like this,” he swept a hand across Obi-Wan’s sides.

Obi-Wan could not reply, he was too lost in the haze, focused on moving up and down. They moved at the same time, and he smiled when he saw the love and adoration in Anakin’s eyes.

As if having him, chubby and soft as he was, was the best thing that could've possibly have happened to him.

“You are,” Anakin said quietly, and Obi-Wan knew his shields had failed him for a second, “you’re the best thing in my life.”

Obi-Wan surrounded his neck with both arms and kissed him, letting Anakin do all the work.

Anakin kissed him back, grabbing at his backside and pounding into him, his cock going in and out fast and quick.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan’s eyes rolled back and he touched his own forgotten cock, “I love you. _Please._ ”

Anakin gave it to him, gave it all. The only sound in the room was a collection of moans and skin slapping skin.

Obi-Wan came in his hand, sobbing and whimpering as Anakin kept fucking him.

“Can I come inside you?” Anakin panted, his legs muscles straining.

Obi-Wan laughed, collapsing on top of him and knowing he wasn’t hurting him at all.

“I’ll be disappointed if you don’t.”

With a grunt, Anakin thrusted one final time, before coming long and hard inside of him. Obi-Wan clenched around him, wanting every drop of cum

Anakin lay completely on the bed and Obi-Wan shifted, not wanting him out yet.

He placed a kiss over Anakin’s heart; the one that now belonged to him.

They spent moments in silence, trying to regain a normal heartbeat.

Anakin never stopped caressing his new round body and Obi-Wan ran his hand through Anakin’s scalp, nuzzling at his sharp cheekbone.

His future husband.

They would have time later, to discuss exactly what they would do with their new life together.

From the corner of his eye, he saw a discarded box of bonbons, one he had forgotten to hide.

“Dear one,” he whispered, “do you know what else the bakery sells?”

“What?” Anakin asked, almost sleepily.

Obi-Wan smiled and sent an image through the bond.

Anakin blinked rapidly, and his mouth curled into a satisfied smile.

“Yes,” his chest shook with silent laughter, and he kissed at Obi-Wan’s sweaty hairline, “we are buying the chocolate flavored lube next.”


End file.
